


Wrapped Up in a Bow

by SilverLining2k6



Category: Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Smut, F/M, Lilly Lives, Mutual Pining, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 18:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLining2k6/pseuds/SilverLining2k6
Summary: Mutual pining is so tedious. Especially when you're young, rich, and hot. If Logan and Veronica won't take action, Lilly will have to do it FOR them.From VMHQ Fic Prompt #13:  Lilly gives Logan to Veronica as a Christmas presentTakes place around 1x10 - An Echolls Family Christmas, with a Lilly Lives AU twist.





	Wrapped Up in a Bow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SusanMichelin (CMackenzie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMackenzie/gifts).



“This is what I get for thinking your ‘Strapless Red Satin’ thing was a metaphor.” Veronica rolls her eyes at her own reflection. She’s actually captivated by the way the ruby sheath dress gleams with a golden sheen in the vanity lights, but she keeps that little observation to herself.

“Will you stop with the complaining?” Lilly stands inside the bath tub, bouncing up and down, stretching and bending, while trying to wrestle a red pleather Santa dress over her breasts and hips. “You look positively luscious, Veronica Mars. Now suck in, so I can zip you up.”

The room is too small for two primping girls, but the lighting is great – unlike Lilly’s more spacious bathroom upstairs – thus, they’re huddled around the vanity in Veronica’s bathroom, cosmetics, appliances, and hair products strewn across the counter. Two plastic champagne glasses sit on a shelf, backlit by a sugar-cookie scented candle.

Veronica inhales, while Lilly drags the zipper up its path. “Maybe I wouldn’t complain if I didn’t have a string up my ass. Why can’t I just wear regular underwear?”

“As I’ve already explained…” Lilly speaks the words like a seven-syllable _DUH_. “...a dress this form-fitting highlights every lump, bump, and panty line. Don’t be that girl with the visible panty lines, Veronica.”

“The horror!” Veronica mocks.

“Besides, look at that booty.” Lilly gives her a playful slap on the ass. “Why would you want to ruin that view?”

She’s not wrong. The snug red dress presents a smooth and appealing view from mid-back to mid-thigh. VPL’s would definitely ruin the effect.

Veronica feels especially pretty tonight. Her black eyeliner gives her a dangerous, feline quality, and her newly-shorn hair falls around her face in Marilyn Monroe-style curls.

They’re staying about an hour outside of Neptune, in rental beach house called Mondo’s Cove. Lilly first learned of the place from Chad, a Pi Sig at Hearst and the property owner. Whether he’d mentioned the place in passing, or as part of his seduction technique, the outcome was the same: Lilly walking away with the house keys to use for her Great Senior Year Christmas Blowout.

Lilly loads up a giant powder puff with glimmer powder, dabbing it over Veronica’s shoulders and décolletage. “I just want you to look perfect tonight.”

Microscopic dust floats up into Veronica’s sinuses, making her sneeze. She’s starting to get a bad feeling about this party. “Why do you seem more concerned with _my_ appearance than your own?”

“Do I?” Lilly powders her own skin, then places a Santa cap on her head, letting it flop over to the right, the left, and back to the right again. “Let’s just say I’ve invited the perfect guy for you tonight.”

 _And there it is._ “Well, you should probably disinvite him, because I’m not interested.”

“Don’t be mad.” Lilly blows her a kiss, catches her own reflection in the mirror, and begins opening lipsticks one-by-one in search of the perfect shade. “Who knows? If my instincts are right – and they’re _always_ right – he could turn out to be your soulmate.”

Okay, that’s just ridiculous. “Need I remind you? You don’t believe in soulmates.”

“But you do,” Lilly says. “And since I can’t convince you to have torrid affairs like me, or _with_ me,” She winks. “…then this is the next best thing.” Having located a fire-engine red MAC lipstick, she leans close to the mirror, shaping her mouth into a large ‘O’.

“Dammit, Lilly! Forget about it. I’m just not—”

“It’s time to move on, Veronica. Duncan dumped you a year ago, and Troy wasn’t worth five minutes of your time.”

“Trust me, I’m not pining over your brother, Lilly. Or Troy.”

_Just the one guy I can never have._

Veronica sips from her pre-party champagne, hoping to ease the lump in her throat. “I just haven’t been inspired to get back in the proverbial saddle.”

“I get that, Veronica. But tonight is the night.” Lilly cuts off her protests with a fingertip to the lip. “You look like a glamourous fifties bombshell, your dad thinks we’re in Napa with the family, so you have no curfew. And if you can’t find inspiration at Christmas, you never will.”

“Christmas isn’t actually for another week.”

“You need perfume.” Lilly grabs a bottle from the counter, spraying a mist straight up into the air. “Walk through it.”

Veronica dutifully obeys, repeating the process twice more before she passes a sniff-test of her hair.

Lilly’s phone buzzes, and she picks it up, squinting at the screen. “That’s Logan with our champagne delivery. He’ll be here any minute.”

“Speaking of Christmas inspiration…” Veronica keeps her voice casual, and gestures to the shiny red garment barely covering Lilly’s bottom. “That dress is pretty scandalous.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Is it…for anybody special?” _Like your ex?_

“Maybe…” Lilly winks and draws out the word, causing Veronica’s stomach to plummet.

Before Veronica can push for details, the doorbells rings. _Wonderful_.

“I still need to slip into my boots. Can you go let Logan in?” Lilly asks.

“Yeah. Fine.” _I can’t think of anything I’d like to do LESS._

It’s not that she has a problem with Logan, per se. They’re still friends, despite her near-constant irritability in his presence. If anything, she wishes things could go back to the way they were last June, when her mom took-off, mere days after the Kanes departed for their three-month European tour.

Gossip travels fast in Neptune, and five metaphorical minutes later, Logan was on her front porch, volunteering to be her fun-times summer tour guide. They had some distance to overcome – last Fall’s breakups, had done a number on the Fab Four – but she wasn’t ashamed to admit she missed him, and was thrilled for the change to resume their friendship without sullen Kane faces getting in the way.

He certainly did his best to keep her entertained. They spent nearly every day together – at the beach, the pool hall, mini-golf, the boardwalk, 09er parties, or just lounging around his pool. He had his mom rent him a speed bike, and took her on exhilarating night-rides up the coast. By day, he tried teaching her how to surf.

She’s not sure when things changed; how Logan transformed from being her snarky, adventure-buddy-slash-new-best-friend, to the seriously hot guy, with magnetic eyes and a beautiful soul.

In June, watching other girls paw all over him was an eye-rolling experience, by August, she wanted to scratch _their_ eyes out. When they started their surf lessons, his hands were a comforting presence, lifting and supporting her on the board, when they finished, those same hands were inducing full-body shivers.

Her only option was to run. To avoid. Logan hadn’t understood her sudden need for alone-time, and she hadn’t explained. What could she have said, anyway? _I want you, and it hurts too much to be around you_?

The Kanes returned, school started, and Logan stopped trying to coax Veronica out of the house. Why bother? He had Duncan back. And his new girlfriend.

Veronica isn’t proud of her reaction to that little development. You learn things when your dad is the sheriff, and she’d been a little _too_ gleeful informing Logan of Caitlin and Chardo’s treachery.

He returned the favor three weeks later – albeit with less self-satisfaction – by slapping a folder on her desk and stalking off. Inside? A Van Lowe Investigations background-check on her new squeeze, Troy Vandegraff. A very bad boy, so it turned out.

Since then, their contact has consisted of heavy tension and snark, and it’s becoming more frequent now that he and Lilly are growing close again. Chatting on the phone, bending their heads together and laughing at the lunch table, and of course, the constant sexual banter. It’s enough to make a girl vomit.

She’s trying to be okay with this, but it’s hard being around him. His knowing eyes that see everything except for her, the wicked smile, promising sexy fun times she’ll only ever imagine, his scent, like some kind of sinful torture device of the libido.

Somehow, without meaning to, Veronica has developed an agonizing crush on her best friend’s ex, and she has no idea how to deal with it.

Lilly taps her on the shoulder. “Um…were you going to stare off into space all night, or are you going to go let him in?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Veronica heads out to the foyer, and yanks open the door. “Logan. Welcome to our humble weekend abode.”

“Mondo’s Cove? Have Gidget and Moondoggie arrived yet?” Logan turns from the plaque to Veronica, his amused sneer transforming into a gape. “Wow! Merry Christmas to ME!”

His gaze sweeps over her, creating a flutter of excitement in her belly. “You look really…”

“Luscious?” she supplies. “Lilly’s words, not mine.”

Logan swallows. “Luscious works.”

 _It would if you meant it._ Veronica steps out of the way, giving him room to enter.

Setting his car keys and three bottles of champagne on the console table next to the door. Logan shrugs off his jacket, and hangs it on a brass coat hook. Underneath, he wears a maroon V-neck sweater, cashmere if she had to guess, with a tight pair of jeans.

“So do you,” Veronica waves her hand at his outfit.

Logan tilts his head. “I look luscious?”

_Well, I’d lick you like a double-scoop of rocky road, so..._

“Decent, at the very least. It’s a good color on you.”

She can do this. Maybe she’ll make it her New Year’s Resolution: be a true friend to Logan again. She’ll have to be anyway, if he and Lilly get back together.

“Hey. You guys.” Lilly calls out from Veronica’s bedroom doorway. “Look up.”

They both lift their eyes.

Mistletoe.

_Fuck!_

Logan smirks and bobs his eyebrows. “What do you think?”

 _Yes, please._ “Depends. How many skanks am I going to taste on your breath?”

“I’m currently skank-free, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

She shoots him with a finger gun. _Got me there._ Subconsciously licks her lips. “Why not? For tradition’s sake.”

Logan leans in, pressing his mouth to hers for one glorious blink-and-you-missed-it moment, then pulls away.

“Really?” Lilly demands, hands planted on her hips. “You can do way better than that! You’re both smoking hot and single, and I know for a fact that Veronica hasn’t been kissed since—”

Veronica nails her with a glare. “Will you shut up? Why must you always—”

Logan’s arm hooks around Veronica’s back, hauling her tight against his body. Fingers slide into the back of her hair, tilting her head, and pulling her mouth up to his. This time, his tongue sweeps into her mouth, gliding against hers, and making every nerve-ending crackle with heat.

She’d imagined the height-difference would be a challenge, yet somehow, everything fits together just right. She sinks into his warmth and he curls around her, his sweater soft like cotton candy against her skin and smelling of cedar.

He tastes like the candy canes he’s always twirling around his finger, and a soft _‘mmm’_ sound escapes her throat before she can stop herself. She clings to his neck, prolonging the kiss for as long as humanly possible.

Or at least until the flash of blinding light and the sound of Lilly’s applause. “WHOO! That’s more like it!”

Logan releases her, and it takes several seconds for Veronica to shake off the dreaminess enough to open her eyes.

Lilly’s still in the doorway, shaking something flat in her hand. A Polaroid picture, from the looks of it.

_Traitor! Why did I agree to bring that camera?_

“Lovely. Blackmail photos.” Avoiding Logan’s eyes, Veronica gestures to the champagne. “Let’s get those chilled.”

He follows her to the formal dining room, where a wooden wine trough sits on a granite-topped breakfast bar, then helps her shove the bottles into ice.

She keeps her demeanor casual and calm, as if sucking-face with the boy she’s crushed-on for months is NBD. As if her knees aren’t weak and wobbly.

To think, after all the obsessing and handwringing, all the angsting and avoidance, it all came down to a single piece of shrubbery. Lilly-sanctioned, to boot.

“Wow.” Logan makes a whistling sound as he turns around and takes in the view. Large rectangular windows stretch out along the back wall – from the dining room to the to the living room. Outside, beyond the thin wooden deck, the Pacific crashes with a fury into the shoreline. No footprints or signs of humanity mar the pristine beach. “It’s beautiful.”

“Why, thank you,” Lilly joins them, twirling once in a circle. “I was going for ravishing or provocative, but I’ll take beautiful.”

“Lilly…” Logan rolls his eyes, and takes-in her appearance. “Who’s the lucky victim tonight.”

“You wish you knew.” She flounces past them, inspecting his champagne choice with distaste. “Definitely not you.”

He snatches the bottle from her, stuffing it back on ice. “Only because I’m not an option for you.”

“Oh my God, you guys!” Veronica groans. “Just cut it out with the foreplay and get back together already.”

“Um…did you read that letter he wrote me last year?” Lilly sniffs, affronted. “There’s no coming back from that.”

“Clearly. Since that was the entire purpose of my letter. You know, not _coming_ back.” Logan snags a handful of pretzels from a bowl, arranging them in a loose stack on his palm.

Veronica wants to believe them. Aside from a stray hookup or three, they’ve been broken up for as long as she and Duncan. But it’s Logan and Lilly. They always end up getting back together eventually, much to detriment of any fool who gets in their way.

She changes the subject. “So, when are the other guests arriving?” _Sooner, would be good. Let’s put dozens of people between me and Logan._ Then again, with Lilly planning some kind of blind date for her, things can only get infinitely more uncomfortable.

“Soon?” Lilly glances at her cell. “The party officially starts in twenty minutes, so give it about forty-five. Nobody wants to be the first to show.”

“When will Duncan be here?” Logan asks. “I need to discuss something with him.”

“Let me check.” Lilly dials a number and lifts her cell to her ear. She rocks her head, as if listening to imaginary hold music, frowns, and hangs up. “That little shit is screening my calls.”

“Well, there was that whole Meg Manning debacle,” Veronica says.

“Ingrate. You’d think he would thank me.” Lilly reaches a hand out to Logan. “Let me try calling from your number.”

He hands over his phone, and she turns her back to them as she dials. “You dick! I knew you were screening my calls!” Lilly’s voice grows faint as she wanders to the other side of the room.

Veronica immediately misses her presence, as that awkward feeling floods back in to fill the void.  
  
_Are we just going to pretend your tongue wasn’t in my mouth two minutes ago? Fine with me._  
  
Logan pushes off the wall, and circles around the large dining room table to get a closer look at the view.  
  
“So…” Veronica breaks the silence, unsure of how to continue. _How about that mistletoe, this year? Nice mouth work there, pal._ “Any big plans over winter break?”

“Not really.” Logan turns back around, and shrugs. “I’m hosting a poker game with Duncan, Sean, and Chester. Connor Larkin’s in town, so he’ll be there, too.”

“Action movie star, Connor Larkin?”

Logan looks offended. “He’s not that special. I promise. How about you? Any plans?”

“Nothing interesting. Dad’s going to try his hand at cooking Christmas dinner, but that’s about it.”

It shouldn’t feel this stilted, talking to him, but there’s a direct correlation between her inability to make small talk and her recent fixation on his mouth.

She glances over her shoulder. What’s taking her so long, anyway? It’s not like she enjoys chatting with her brother.

Lilly’s in the foyer, talking quietly into the phone, while inspecting her appearance in the golden-framed mirror over the console table.  
  
“If you want to join us, you’re welcome,” Logan says, and it takes Veronica a moment to realize he’s talking about the poker game.  
  
“You sure about that?” Grabbing her plastic glass of champagne, she joins him at the window. “I didn’t realize you valued your money so little.”  
  
“Please,” he scoffs. “You got lucky once. Don’t get used to it.”  
  
Again, he’s talking about poker, but she can’t help but think of sex, specifically her perpetual lack of it.  
  
Logan picks up on the vibe, and smirks. “Don’t worry. Looking like that…”  He takes in her appearance again, head to toe, and she’d like to believe she there’s heat in his gaze that wasn’t there for Lilly.  
  
“Looking like that, _what?_ ” Her voice comes out whispery. She never gets an answer.  
  
“Logan, I’m taking your truck to pick up a friend and some last-minute supplies.” Lilly calls out, picking up his keys from the console table and giving them a rattle. “Back in twenty minutes.”  
  
“Like hell you are.” Logan reaches out a hand, as if trying to snatch back his keys from across the room. “I didn’t let you drive my baby while we were dating. What makes you think—”  
  
“Stop me.” Lilly sings, and bounces out the beach house.  
  
“Really?” Logan gestures to the door, glancing at Veronica with a ‘did you see that’ expression. “Does she ever take no for an answer?”  
  
“You would think you’d never dated her when you ask dumb questions like that.”  
  
“Well, it is something I'm trying my best to forget.”  
  
“Right.” Like she’s going to believe that.

_Thanks, Lilly, for stranding me all alone with the one guy I’m trying to avoid._

There’s only one solution for this awkwardness. Snack mix. She rearranges bowls so that her favorite zesty flavor is within reach, and shoves a handful in her mouth.

Sighing, Logan turns back to the window. “Great waves out there. I almost wish I had my board with me.”

She chews and swallows. “It’s December.”

“And my wetsuit,” he adds.

“I see.” Veronica speaks gravely. “You’d rather risk icy waves and pneumonia than spend time hanging out with me. No hard feelings.”

“Icy waves. Ice queen.” He shrugs, simulating a balance scale with his hands, then nudges her with his knee. “Hey, you know I didn’t mean it like that, right?”

She sips her champagne. “I know you just fell for a third-rate guilt trip. You’re losing your touch, Echolls.”

Of course, he’d be thinking about surfing. In case the name Mondo’s Cove wasn’t a dead giveaway, this house is, first and foremost, designed for surfers.

Cedar wood makes up the floors, walls, and ceilings. Throw pillows and area rugs bear nautical motifs: sea coral, octopi, sharks. Decorative boards are propped against the walls.

A giant mirror hangs above a leather couch in the living room. On either side, painted right onto the wood panels, bare-chested mermaids raise their hands to the heavens. To be fair, they’re small-breasted mermaids. Artistic, not lewd.

“It was a wasted guilt trip, anyway. You’re the one who never wants to hang out anymore.”

“We’re hanging out now.” She fakes a smile and holds out the bowl. “Snack mix?”

He shakes his head and grabs a handful. “Why did Lilly really need to take my car?”

“I don’t know. More food, maybe?” Veronica sets the bowl back down and waves a hand at the spread. “I told her that wouldn’t be enough pizza for the hordes of 09ers she’s expecting, but we have plenty of snacks and munchies. Some beer, and the champagne you brought.”

“And the friend she has to pick up?”

Veronica shrugs, genuinely baffled. “I know she invited some guy for me. Without asking, for the record, she sprang it on me right before you showed up. Said he’s my future soulmate, or some nonsense, but she never mentioned a name.”

Logan chokes on some food, and Veronica has to give him a good whack on the back to dislodge it.

“She picked out a soulmate for you?” he asks, once he has his coughing under control. “She just… _picked_ one. Because that’s a thing we do for other people?”

“Come on, Logan, you know Lilly.” Veronica grabs the open bottle of champagne, refills her little glass, and pours one for Logan. “Soulmate is just the clickbait headline to get me to relent. The real message is that I need to get laid. Apparently, I’ve been a bit of a buzzkill sourpuss lately, and I need a good dose of sex to improve my attitude.”

Logan’s eyes crinkle in the corners. “Far be it from me to agree with Lilly, but you have been a wee bit cranky lately.” He pinches his thumb and pointer fingers a few centimeters apart. “What’s that all about, anyway? Why’re you so angry?”

“Maybe I need to get laid?” She sips her champagne, watching him over her glass.

Logan smiles – the good one, with teeth – and her heart flip-flops. “Maybe you do.”

“So, any predictions on my soulmate?” She breaks the tension before she ends up suffocating on it. “What do you think? Douchey frat boy? All American captain of the football team? Science geek?”

“No one good enough.”

“Really? Who would you pick for me?” she asks, because she needs more emotional bitch-slapping, or something.

“I wouldn’t presume to.”

“Good answer.”

Next to the glass door, white letters on a green sign read: CLOTHING OPTIONAL BEYOND THIS POINT. Lifting an eyebrow at her, he bumps it with his fist.

“Already, Logan?” Veronica gives a disappointed shake of her head. “Usually, you need a few drinks in you before you start stripping.”

“I’ll make an exception if you will.” Stepping right into her personal space, he pins her with his eyes, and reaches his arm around her.

Veronica’s heart pounds erratically, and right when she’s convinced it’s going to stop beating forever, he winks and snatches up the snack mix bowl from the dining table.

_Jackass._

He grins, shoves a handful of crunchy stuff in his mouth.

He’s deliberately fucking with her, right? With his flirting and staring and stuff.

“Hey, I meant to tell you.” Logan swallows, and moves closer. He runs a light hand over her hair, bounces a curl on his palm. “I’m loving this whole Gentlemen Prefer Blondes thing you’ve got going on tonight. It really works.”

“Everyone knows you prefer blondes,” Veronica says. “But you’re—”

“—no gentleman.” He completes the sentence _with_ her, breaking out into that rare wide smile again. “Maybe not, but if you sit on my lap and sing Santa Baby, and I’ll gladly cover you in diamonds.”

_Should I tell him that was Eartha Kitt?  Nah._

“Then you’re a bigger sucker than I thought.” Veronica pretends to yawn. “I’d do it for free.”

Logan shoves the bowl onto the table, spilling a good handful in his haste. He grabs both her hands, pulling her backwards into the living room.

Damn, what did she go and get herself into now?

_On second thought, screw it. Two can play the flirting game._

Logan falls backwards onto a leather couch knees spread wide. He reaches out for Veronica, but she slaps his hands away.

“Give me a second.” She holds up a finger. “I need to get into character.”

He huffs out a breath. “Actors.”

This calls for Amber, the ditzy blonde persona she'd invented while helping Wallace's girlfriend get her money back.  She slips it on now, like a mask, giving it a power-up in _va-va-voom_.

Stepping between his knees, she perches carefully on his left thigh, makes her eyes vacant. She skims fingers over the top of Logan’s hair, and drops down into a practiced baby voice. “ _’Santa Baby, put a present under the tree. For me. I’ve been a really good girl.’_ Or is it ‘nice’ girl?”

“Who gives a shit?”

“True. _‘Santa Baby, hurry down the chimney tonight'_.”

He’s grinning at her, absolutely delighted, and she runs her hands over his sweater, as if adjusting imaginary suit lapels. “ _Santa Baby_ ,” Oh crap, what comes next? _“Da da da da da da da da, Da da. I’ll wait up for you dear, Santa Baby, hurry down the chimney tonight.”_   She boops him on the nose.

“Nice.”

_“Think of all the fun I’ve missed. Think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed.”_

Logan puckers his lips, and she leans close enough to smooch, shoving him backwards at the last second.

 _“Next year I can be oh so good. If you’ll check off my Christmas list.”_ Why can’t he be wearing a tie? She drags him back up roughly by a handful of sweater. _“Oh, Santa Baby. Oh shit I can’t remember the words. Not one. Guess no diamonds for me.”_ She laughs. “How about a different song? You still want Marilyn?”

He nods. About six times too many.

“Okay.” She drops her tone lower and sultrier, and goes with the old cliché. _“I wanna be loved by you, by you, and nobody else but you.”_

_On the nose much, Veronica?_

She runs her hands over the top of his head, one after the other. _“I wanna be loved by you, alone…”_ Leaning in, she wiggles the tip of her nose against his. _“Pooh pooh bee doo.”_

Logan giggles.

She tiptoes her fingers down his chest. _“I wanna be kissed by you.”_

“Totally do-able,” Logan says.

“Hush.” She presses his cheek into her clavicle, and sings over his head like in the old movies. _“By you and nobody else but you. I wanna be kissed by you, alone..._

“Pretty sure we’re on the same page,” his lips mumble against her skin.

Releasing him, she stands, dragging Logan upward with one hand under the chin. _“I couldn’t aspire, to anything higher.”_ Then pushes him back down by the forehead, making him laugh. _“Than to fill my desire. To make you my own.”_ She sits back down on his lap, leans back against his chest, and braces her weight on his thighs. Gives him a few showgirl kicks. _“Paah-dum paah-dum doo bee dum, pooooo!”_ Right leg, left leg, right, then a butt bump right into his crotch.

“Oof.” Logan pretends to be injured. He reaches for her right thigh, and she smacks his hand.

Pulling both of his arms around her, she snuggles in close, presses her right cheek against his left, and sways. _“I wanna be loved by you. By you, and nobody else but you. I wanna be loved by you, alone…”_ She holds an imaginary microphone up to his mouth.

“Pooh pooh bee do?”

She laughs, shifting onto his right leg. “Well? How’d I do?”

“Major points for sex appeal. Like on a scale from one-to-ten, I’d rate it ‘you’ve-ruined-me-forever’. Logan plays with her fingers. “Shame you didn’t know the words to Santa Baby, though. You could’ve finagled a yacht, a fur coat, and a car out of me.”

“Rats.” Veronica snaps her finger. “Wasn’t there a deed to a diamond mine in there somewhere too?”

“Yep. Bummer. That performance definitely was good for one diamond, though.” He traces a shape from her neck down to the center of her chest. “We’ll put it right here.”

“Square cut or pear shaped?” She lifts a brow. “These rocks don’t lose their shape.”

He gives her a half-smile. “How about star shaped?”

She shakes her head, sadly. “I never saw Lilly's necklace again after that day on the beach. I’m just lucky she forgave me for losing it.”

Logan shifts, holding her tightly as he partially stands and reaches behind him. When his hand emerges again, it’s holding a small red leather box with a smashed gold bow.

Veronica inhales, shifting into Amber voice. “Didn’t you notice? His pocket was bulging.”

Logan snickers. “And it wasn’t a bag of gumdrops. Lilly helped me find it.”

The gold-embossed Cartier logo on the box is not a good sign, and when he opens it, revealing a shooting-star shaped pendant on a chain, her heart stops.

“Why?”

“I know it’s not the exact same one, but, you can make wishes on this one.”

“Why would you buy me something so nice?”

_Especially after I’ve been avoiding you._

“You know.” He shrugs, stares down at the box. “I was partially responsible for you losing the first one, and then when you stopped coming around…”

_Wait, did he think…?_

“Logan? Look at me.”

He lifts his face.

“Get this through your stupid head.” She gives him a rap on the skull, and he squirms. “I never blamed you for my lost necklace. It was an honest mistake. Probably entirely my fault.”

“Okay.” His eyes drop and lift again. “Well, whatever I did, I’ve missed you.”

Veronica expels a long breath. “You didn’t do anything.” _Except being your sexy, charismatic self._ “I promise you, my issues are all mine.”

Logan keeps staring at her, expectantly. She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I miss you, too. Okay? A lot.”

Now he smiles, wiggles the box. “Can I?”

She nods. _I’m so going to regret this._

Logan fiddles with the chain, extracting it from the box, then drapes it around her neck. She lifts the back of her hair while he fastens it.

“Thank you.” It’s heavier than the old necklace, and she doesn’t even want to _know_ what he paid for it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get anything for you.”

“Not necessary.” Logan says, sliding his finger under the pendant, and then releasing it. “All I want is for you to stop avoiding me.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“And a thank you kiss.”

Veronica laughs. “Hey now. One little interlude under the mistletoe does not make us kissing buddies.”

“Then what will?” Logan looks straight into her eyes, and this is _not_ harmless flirtation.

The question creates a ripple of excitement in Veronica, which immediately downgrades to frustration. She drops her eyes down to the pendant. “You not being Lilly’s ex? Me not being Duncan’s?”

When she looks at him again, there’s a new gleam in his eyes. It’s almost as if…

 _Shit!_ That was as good as an admission that she wants him. Why would she have that answer on the tip of her tongue if it wasn’t something she’d spent a lot of time obsessing about?

“Speaking of Lilly, imagine if she walked in and caught us like this.” Flustered, Veronica stands, tugging her dress down in the back. “She should have been back my now, right?”

“Yeah. You think she crashed my truck?” Logan runs his hands over his pockets, then cranes his neck toward the front door. “Dammit! She never gave me my phone back.”

“I’ll grab mine.” Veronica checks the bathroom where they got ready, both nightstands and her purse. She expands her search to the kitchen, breakfast nook, and dining room, but returns empty-handed. “That’s weird. I can’t find my phone anywhere.”

Logan’s brow furrows, skeptically. “Yeah. Real weird.” He scoops up a remote control, powers on the television, then drops down onto the right side of the brown leather couch, patting the left cushion in invitation.

With no legitimate reason for declining, she has no choice but to sit, careful to keep her dress from riding up.

A program guide appears on the TV and Logan idly arrows down through the channels. He pauses, catches Veronica’s eye, and then nods at the TV screen. “Your favorite movie’s about to start.”

“A Year Without Santa Claus!” She claps, not faking her excitement now. “Turn it on!”

“We might only get to watch a little bit before people start showing up,” he warns, pressing the button on the remote.

“That’s more than we had before.”

He nudges her arm. “You hungry?”

“A little.”

Logan lifts a leg up in the air, using it to lever himself up, like only he does. “Stay here. I’ll get us something.” He brings back pizza and popcorn, pretzels and snack mix and chocolate, spreading it all out on the coffee table. He goes back for some drinks, returning just as the movie begins and a Claymation figure fills the screen.

 

 

> _“Have you been told? Have you ever heard, of the curious, furious, fidgety year, when Santa Clause unhitched his sleigh, and vowed he was taking a holiday? How do I know so much about Santa? Well I’m Mrs. Claus.”_

Veronica mouths the words along with the character, aware of Logan laughing at her in her peripheral vision.

Thirty minutes, six pieces of pizza, and two glasses of champagne later, the guests haven’t arrived. Worse yet, Lilly still hasn’t returned from her “quick” errand.

Veronica excuses herself to use the restroom during a commercial break.

When she returns, Logan is glowering. “I checked out front, and Lilly’s Mercedes is gone. Along with my truck.”

“Wait, what? How could she drive two cars?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb here, and say it’s physically impossible. Is there a house phone?”

“She said it would be pointless to turn it on for the weekend, when everyone would have cells.” Veronica gestures to the otherwise empty house. “Everyone. I get fashionably late, but somebody should be here by now, unless nobody’s coming at all.”

“Now you’re catching on.” Logan runs his hand over the back of his neck. “No cars, no phones, no neighbors in residence for miles.”

“That sneaky little…” Veronica makes a strangling gesture at neck height. “So, what? This is some kind of intervention? She’s tired of us bickering and wants us to sort it out?” She sits back on the couch - sulkily, if she’s being honest.

Logan sits too, one knee on the cushion, pointed toward her. “I guess? Although, I want it stated on the record that I was the _bickeree_ , not the bickerer.” He gestures first to himself, then her. “Anyway, it looks like we’re stuck here, until Lilly sees fit to rescue us.”

The movie returns, sparing her from having to unpack those implications.

“They’re playing your song,” Logan says several minutes later, as the horns cue up the Snow Miser song.

It’s an old joke. A dig at Veronica’s perpetually icy hands, not her personality. According to their script, she twists in her seat pressing both palms to each of his cheeks.

“Brrr.” Logan gives an exaggerated shiver. “You really should have your circulation checked out. I worry about you.” He sandwiches her hands between his own warmer ones, rubbing to create friction.

“I guess that makes you Heat Miser.”

“That goes without saying.” He turns one of her hands over, kisses the center of her palm, and looks up from under his lashes. “Whatever I touch, starts to melt in my clutch.”

Veronica groans audibly, lifts her eyes heavenward, and tugs her hands free. “Such humility. You sure it’s not just heartburn?”

He smirks, a cocky gleam in his eyes. “I don’t know, Veronica. That didn’t look like heartburn under the mistletoe earlier.”

Her mouth falls open. _He went there. He really went there._

“No snarky comments?” Logan waves a hand at the foyer. “Maybe we should go back over there. You can demonstrate exactly how non-melty my touch is.”

 _I should take you up on that offer. Wipe that smirk right off your face._ She won’t, though. It’s bad enough knowing how it feels to kiss him. She can’t afford to start getting used to it.

She’s spared from having to answer by a ringing sound. “Where’s that coming from? It sounds like my ringtone.”

Logan mutes the television, and she follows the strangely tinny ringing sound to its source.

“What the hell?” She reaches into a tall porcelain vase. “There’s no way I would ever put my phone in here.”

The screen identifies the caller as Lilly, but the moment she answers, the call disconnects. “Unbelievable. She hung up on me.”

“Of course she did. She doesn’t want to talk to you, she just wanted you to find your phone.”

Veronica dials Lilly back, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Dammit, Lilly! This isn’t funny. Whatever you think you’re going to accomplish by stranding us here, is only going to backfire.”

She hangs up, and her phone immediately buzzes with a text:

**Lilly Kane 10:41 PM**

**L &V. FORGIVE ME FOR THE SUBTERFUGE.**

**YOUR CHRISTMAS GIFT WAITS FOR YOU IN THE MASTER BEDROOM.**

“What’d she say?” Logan asks.

Veronica hands him the phone.

He turns in a slow circle. “Which one is the master bedroom.”

“Upstairs.” Veronica points to the staircase. “But we still have ten minutes left of the movie.”

“You don’t even want to see what her gift is?”

“No. I’m pissed.” Veronica slides her cell across the coffee table and sits, pouting. “I didn’t even want to be here, but Lilly made such a big deal about this damn party. We had to find the perfect location. The perfect party outfits.” _Not to mention the underwear up my ass._ “All of that, just for her to ditch us.”

“That is pretty shitty. Even for Lilly.”

“Wait.” Veronica holds up her hand. “Remember earlier when Lilly made some comment about the two of you never getting back together?”

“I guess.”

“Do you think she was casting out feelers?”

“Feelers?”

“Was she hinting that she wanted you back? Maybe she felt rejected when you shot down the idea, and she just wanted to get away.”

“Don’t. You already know what this is. Stop looking for an excuse or explanation.” Logan says. “Anyway, I’m pretty well-versed in what Lilly’s feelers look like. She wasn’t casting any, and if she had, _I_ would have been the one bailing on the party. But she wouldn’t. Because she’s fully aware that I’m not interested.”

“Really?” Veronica lifts a skeptical brow. “Come on. It’s just you and me now. Be honest. Would you really turn down Lilly if she wanted you?”

Logan looks her in the eyes. “I really would. Lilly isn’t _the one._ ”

Glimmers of hope burst forth like seedlings seeking the sun. Veronica smiles, and holds out a hand for him to help her up. “Fine. Let’s check out this gift.”

* * *

Like the common rooms below, the master bedroom is all cedar wood and floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Logan, I fetched Lilly’s boots from this room not ten minutes before you got here, and none of this was going on.” Veronica waves a hand at the scene before them: blazing fireplace, soft music playing from an iPod speaker, candles flickering by the dozens from every available surface. On the center of the king-sized bed, sits a large white box with a huge golden bow. “She must have parked your truck somewhere and snuck back in after she left.”

Logan grabs a candle, crouches down, and drags a finger over a spot on the floor. “Hmm. Sandy footprints coming in from the balcony door. Size six and a half. Think it’s a clue, Nancy Drew?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, but I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why.”

“Well, let’s figure it out.” Logan bounces onto the foot of the bed, crisscrossing his feet in front of him. Veronica takes a seat near the pillows, leaning on her left hip, and stretching her legs to the side, mermaid style.

The glossy white box isn’t wrapped. Once Veronica removes the wide, golden ribbon holding it all together, Logan wiggles off the red lid.

A folded notecard sits on top of some folded tissue paper, sans envelope. Nothing new, Lilly collects notecards in multiples of colors and prints, using them for all manners of written communications.

**L & V,**  
  
In case you haven’t figured it out yet, there is no party tonight.  
Yes, I’m a liar, but my heart’s in the right place. I did it because I love you both so much. I want you to be happy, and I’m willing to do what it takes, even if you’re not.  
  
Therefore, I gift to each of you what I cherish most in this world. What you both so desperately want and deserve.

 **Merriest Christmas Ever (I have a feeling it will be),  
Santa Lilly**

“Well that was…cryptic,” Veronica says.

Under the tissue, two red document-sized envelopes sit upon another layer of paper. Logan removes both, tossing Veronica the one labeled with her name in golden calligraphy.

It’s heavier than expected, contents shifting and sliding inside. She sets it aside, electing to inspect the remaining contents of the box instead.

While Logan unwinds the string closure on his own folder, Veronica peels back the next layer of paper – right side, then left – and peers inside.

“Condoms!” She gasps, pressing a dramatic hand to her heart. “She’s gifting us her precious condoms! Finally, confirmation that she truly treasures our friendship.”

She glances up, but Logan isn’t laughing. Instead, he wears a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

“What’s your problem?” she asks. “I’m pretty sure all of this stuff is for you.”

“And I’m pretty sure you didn’t catch the gist of Lilly’s note, Veronica. The condoms aren’t the gift.”

Then what is? The back-massager wand? The mini feather duster? The… _Oh._ “This is starting to look like an intervention of an entirely different sort, huh?”

Logan snorts. “You don’t say.”

There isn’t much _to_ say that doesn’t fall under the heading of ‘awkward’. She inspects some of the other contents: a black mask that probably wasn’t made for sleeping, fuzzy red handcuffs, a large glass candy cane with bumpy ridges between the stripes, a leather-covered ping-pong paddle.

She pulls out a large, hot pink, rubber penis, giving it a good wobble. “Not to sound naïve, but…I know it’s a dildo, what I don’t get, is what all the straps are for.”

Logan glances up from where he’s spilling a stack of small envelopes from his document folder onto the bed, then does a double-take. His eyes grow huge, and he snatches it from her, tossing it to the side. “That’s for…advanced stuff.”

Veronica sighs. “I’m a virgin, not a Mormon, Logan.”

“Let me clarify. Too advanced for _ME._ ”

“Oh.” He waits her out while she runs through the possibilities in her mind. _“Ohhhhh.”_

“Yeah.” He nods, then smirks. “You’d have to buy me dinner, first. And drinks. Lots of drinks.”

She inspects a gift-set containing several bottles of colorful liquid. “I don’t get it.”

“Did you try reading the label?”

“I get what it is, but...with all these sugary flavors, wouldn’t that make you a sticky mess?”

He lifts one shoulder, eyes crinkling in the corners. “There’s something to be said for getting sticky, Veronica.”

“And how does it warm? Is it like from friction?”

“Let me see that.” Taking the box from her, he removes the plastic wrapper, chooses one of the bottles – cotton candy – and rips off the cellophane seal. “Give me your hand.”

Veronica complies, and he squeezes a bead of liquid on the tip of her index finger. Leaning close, he blows on it.

An answering warmth emits from her skin. “It’s slightly warmer.”

“I mean, it’s meant for more _sensitive_ areas of the body.” His eyes drop to her lap.

“Ahhh. Okay, no explanation needed.” Veronica tentatively touches her tongue to the liquid on her fingertip and, finding the taste pleasant enough, licks off the rest.

Logan squirms a little and looks away. He returns to his envelopes, dividing them into two stacks, then rearranging the order.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious as to the contents, but she’s also feeling a bit contrary.

Veronica snags the gift-set back, emptying the remaining five bottles onto the bed, and pulling off the wrappers.

“Veronica, truth or dare?”

 _Is this really the time for that?_ She’s taste-testing the Red Hots flavor, and her tongue tingles.

“Um...truth?”

It’s the ripping sound that makes her look up. He’s holding an envelope with a torn-sticker seal, and extracting a note card.

“Wait. Are those envelopes some kind of premeditated Truth or Dare game?”

“Looks that way.” He shifts onto his side, lifting a knee, and draping his arm over it. “Now that you mention it, we’d have to be stupid to play her game.”

“No, I want to play.”

“You sure? These are Lilly’s questions, and if you think she’s going to go easy on us…”

Not a chance in hell. But can Veronica really walk away from this without knowing which questions Lilly has in store for Logan? Or, more importantly, his answers?

“I’m sure.”

“Okay. So, you picked Truth,” he reminds her, holding up the envelope and extracting the notecard inside. He opens it and reads aloud, a smile forming on his lips.

###  **TRUTH**

**Veronica, rate this kiss on a scale of one-to-ten.**  


He hands the card over to her.

The front shows a candy-cane colored illustration of reindeer and sleigh in a snowy meadow. Remarkably conventional for Lilly.

 _Wait, is that a penis in that snowbank?_   She squints, and finds other images hidden in the tree branches, antlers and clouds. Couples is various stages of copulation and oral sex.

Affixed to the inside the card, is the Polaroid photo of herself and Logan kissing under the mistletoe, and damn does she look into it. Extremely into it.

“I knew she was up to no good. Um…” Veronica’s mouth goes dry. “I guess I’d rate it an eight?”

“Eight?” Logan’s face scrunches up, offended. “That’s it?”

“Well…I mean, I would’ve rated it higher if my best friend wasn’t standing there, watching me kiss her ex, clapping like a seal, and blinding me with camera flash.” She could leave it at that, but apparently, she’s in the mood for over-sharing. “Also, it could have lasted longer.”

That seems to placate him. He nods slowly. “You like long kisses and privacy. I’ll keep that in mind.”

_That sounds ominous._

“Truth or dare, Logan?” Veronica unwinds the string and overturns her own document folder onto the bed. Eight envelopes fall out, labeled, _‘TRUTH #1’, ‘TRUTH #2’, ‘TRUTH #3’, ‘TRUTH #4’, ‘DARE #1’, ‘DARE #2’, ‘DARE #3’,_ and _‘DARE #4_ ’.

“Truth.”

She rips open the sticker on the ‘TRUTH #1’ envelope, and slides out the card.

###  **TRUTH**

**Logan, have you ever considered making a move on Veronica? What stopped you?**

Logan groans and runs a hand through his hair, pointedly avoiding her eyes. “What stopped me from making a move on you? Let’s see if I can remember…I think it was Duncan’s feelings, or maybe Lilly’s feelings. There was the Great Kane Civil War, where they made us choose sides, which led to lack of access, bad timing, and you suddenly dropping me from your life.” He purses his lips. “Oh, and I forgot crippling insecurity and fear of rejection.”

Veronica laughs mirthlessly. It’s nice of him to spare her feelings and all, but… “Insecurity? You’re the most confident person I know. A legend in his own mind.”

Logan lifts one corner of his mouth in an enigmatic smile, and picks up his stack of envelopes. “Truth or Dare, Veronica?”

“Dare?”

He rips open his ‘DARE #1’ envelope, and bites his lip. “Hey. We don’t have to play Lilly’s game. We can go back downstairs and watch TV.”

Veronica plucks the card away from him, and reads it aloud.

###  **DARE**

**Veronica - On that same one-to-ten scale, give Logan a kiss that rates a TEN.**

He glances up at her, forehead wrinkling. “See what I mean?”

“It’s okay.” Veronica’s voice wobbles a bit from nerves. “I’ll do it.”

He’s stretched sideways across the top of the bed, torso propped up by his elbow.

Veronica curls her feet underneath her, rotates up onto her knees and crawls over to him. She leans in, hovering mere centimeters from his lips, and savoring the moment of anticipation. There’s no mistletoe now, and he’s already given her an ‘out’. She can’t pretend this isn’t a choice.

Logan lifts his hand, smoothing loose hair back from her cheeks, and it feels like permission. She closes the distance.

It starts out like a whisper, light and tentative, but when his lips part under hers, a torrent of repressed desire and yearning takes over. One hand stabilizes her on the bed, the other wraps around his neck, dragging him closer and deepening the intensity.

She’s done the dare. She can stop now. But she doesn’t want to. Why stop at ten when you can shoot for fifteen?

Veronica shifts her balance backwards, bringing Logan with her until her back hits the mattress.

He’s stretched out above her, warm and hard, and her entire world is Logan’s mouth and the hair between her fingers.

Her calf twists around his, and this has escalated beyond a simple dare. She’s stroking the cloud soft hem of his sweater, nudging it upward when Logan breaks the kiss, lifting up onto his elbow. “So, I could be wrong, but I think that should satisfy the spirit of the dare.”

Her vocal chords won’t cooperate, so Veronica answers with an enthusiastic nod. Logan pulls back onto his knees, and helps her sit up.

Warmth suffuses her skin, and she forces herself not to grin. She straightens out her legs, adjusts her dress – hem and neckline – and fingers her stack of envelopes.

She’d kill to possess mind-reading powers right now. What did he think of the kiss? What does he think she’s thinking? Did she give herself away entirely? Or did she manage to retain a smidgen of mystery?

“Well?” Logan bumps her with his knee. “Give it to me.”

“Again?” She lets her jaw drop. “You’re voracious.”

“My turn, smartass, but we will be revisiting that kissing buddies question from earlier.”

She bites back her smile. “Truth or Dare, Logan?”

“Dare.” He folds his fingers together in prayer, lifts his eyes to the heavens. “Please be more kissing stuff.”

Veronica opens her ‘DARE #1’ envelope.

###  **DARE**

**Logan, remove one item of clothing.**

“Please…I’d do that without a dare.” He smirks and reaches behind his neck, pulls his sweater off in one motion, then tosses it at Veronica.

  
It’s warm, and smells of him, and it’s so unfair that she can’t lift it to her face and breathe him in.

“Show-off.”

“Hey, if you’ve got it…”

_Yeah, he’s definitely got it._

While summer’s tan has all but faded, Logan’s skin still gleams with health and vitality in the firelight. The past four months have been kind to his body. Not only the biceps he’s currently flexing accidentally-on-purpose, but his chest muscles look more sculpted, with a defined channel in the middle and his belly is flatter.

He has more body hair now, as well, on his chest and trailing down into his pants, and she’s curious whether it’s soft or wiry in texture.

He looks…like a man.

“You ready for your turn or would you rather keep staring?”

She flips him off. “Truth.”

Logan opens the envelope, silently scans the question, then rolls his eyes and reads it aloud.

###  **TRUTH**

**Veronica, the 09ers are forming a new cult, and have kidnapped you for their virgin sacrifice. They plan to toss you in a volcano first thing in the morning, and tonight is your last opportunity to disqualify yourself. Is Logan on the top five list of boys you’d choose to take your virginity?”**

He shakes his head. “She probably could’ve skipped the story, and just led with the last sentence.”

“And leave me some wiggle-room? I might argue that virginity is a social construct, or threaten to join a nunnery.”

“As good as you look in black, that would be a real shame.” Logan says. “So? You haven’t answered the question. Am I on your top five list?”

Veronica’s throat feels like sandpaper. She swallows some champagne, her face impossibly hot. “Yes.”

She pulls a package from the box, pretending to be interested in the description. It’s an egg-shaped vibrator, incidentally, with twelve unique vibration patterns.

“I’ll ready my spear.”

Veronica lifts her head, eyes wide.

“Not that spear.” He snickers. “I meant…you know…for a daring rescue?” He mimes throwing a javelin. “Nevermind.”

Veronica laughs, (because the image of him backing the 09ers up against a volcano with a six foot spear between his legs is too funny not to) but she still can’t meet his eyes.

She pries the package open, and removes the egg. It’s covered in some kind of soft silicone and attached to its controller by a wire. She’s never used anything like this before, but she’ll have to remedy that soon. With her mom gone, there’s less possibility of it being discovered in her bedroom by an intrusive parent.

“Wait.” Logan says. “What about top three?”

She nods, cheeks burning even hotter.

Nothing happens when she pushes the power button on the controller. She turns it over, pulls a plastic tab sticking out of the battery compartment, and the egg buzzes to life. She pushes an arrow shaped button, and the buzzing pattern changes.

“Before or after Josh Hartnett?”

“Shut up!” She laughs and shoves at his shoulder.

Logan catches her hand, pulls it to his mouth, and presses a kiss to it, eyes twinkling. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I think we’ve exhausted this topic. It’s your turn. Truth or Dare.” She powers off the vibrator, and tosses it back in the box, followed by its packaging.

“Truth.”

“One Truth coming up.” She rips open the ‘TRUTH #2’ envelope, scans the text and groans. She reads it verbatim.

###  **TRUTH**

  
**Logan, in a typical week, assuming you jerk off at least once a day (don’t deny it, you totally do, you perv) how many times on average, does Veronica come up in your rotation?”**

  
She sits up straighter, just as Logan falls backwards, pulling a pillow over his face. “She is such a bitch!” He waits several beats, then uncovers his mouth and mumbles, “In an average week, you probably come up in my rotation just about…daily.”

A whoosh of excitement runs through Veronica’s belly. “Oh…um…”

Logan peeks out from under the pillow. “Are you pissed?”

“No!” Not even close to pissed. Overwhelmed, definitely. “I just never thought you saw me that way.”

“I’m pretty sure you did, because I’ve admitted I thought you were hot the last time we played Truth or Dare with Lilly.”

Years ago, maybe.

“I meant…sexy.” She shrugs, feeling bashful. “Somebody to fantasize about. Or anything other than Lilly’s sidekick.”

“Veronica…I almost swallowed my tongue when I saw you in that dress tonight, so…” He rolls onto his side, and props his chin on his hand. “And you knew how excited I was to have you all to myself last summer. Would I have felt that way if I saw you as Lilly’s sidekick?”

“I suppose not, but you never acted like…” … _you saw me as anything other than a friend._

“Neither did you.” He reaches over for his stack of cards. “Let’s see what new torture Lilly has in mind for you. Truth or dare, Veronica.”

She almost picks truth – has the ‘T’ on the tip of her tongue – until it occurs to her that Lilly is very likely to make her admit to masturbating. Will she be forced to reveal details about her own ‘rotation’?

“Dare.”

Logan loosens the flap on an envelope.

###  **DARE**

**Veronica, I dare you to take off your underwear and give them to Logan.**

“Oh my God.” She buries her face in her hands, and releases a sobbing laugh. “I have a better idea. How about instead of giving them to you, I can use them as a makeshift garotte for a certain friend?”

“No arguments here, but can I have them after?”

Veronica stands, cheeks burning, and toes off her heels. “For the record, these aren’t my usual style. Lilly insisted I wear them under this dress, and that makes a lot more sense now.”

She reaches under her dress, wiggling her underwear over her hips and down her legs. They’re as indecent as they are pretty: sheer black, nearly transparent, with a delicate floral lace pattern. Probably, not entirely dry after that kiss.

Veronica tosses them at Logan, hitting his knee, and sits back down, with as much modesty as possible.

He lifts her g-string by his index finger, and lets out a pained groan. “Jesus fucking Christ. This is attempted murder.” He shoves them in his pocket, and then covers his lap with a throw pillow. “You’re not getting these back, you know.”

She should probably argue over that. She knows where Lilly purchased them, and she could probably buy six pairs of her favorite jeans for less money than that tiny scrap of lace. Then again, Lilly’s on her shit-list right now. “Keep ‘em. They’re all yours.”

“Well, since you’re feeling so generous, care to model them for me?”

“Don’t press your luck, Echolls. Anyway, you’re going to need it all for your next turn.” Veronica holds up two envelopes. “What does Lilly have in store for you next? Will you be revealing your deepest and darkest? Or pimped out for Echolls Stud Service?”

Logan pretends to shiver. “I’ll take the pimping for a thousand, Mars.”

Veronica opens the dare envelope, scans the contents, and her mouth goes dry. She swallows, and reads it three more times silently before reading it aloud.

###  **DARE**

**Logan. I dare you to stop playing this stupid game, and give Veronica the orgasm of her lifetime.**

Logan’s jaw drops. “Okay, she’s gone way too far, now.” He springs up from the bed, drapes his shirt around his neck like a towel, and reaches for Veronica’s hand. “Come on. We’ll go watch another movie or something. Maybe you could sing on my lap some more” He pulls her off the bed, tugging her toward the door.

“Wait.” Veronica digs in her heels.

“Forget something?” He scans the bedroom for their possessions.

It’s do or die. This morning, she had a dozen reasons why she could never have Logan, stemming from loyalty, insecurity, and miscommunication. All have been proven false, and Lilly has handed her this opportunity on a silver platter.

_Don’t blow this, Veronica. Who knows when you’ll have another chance._

She straightens her shoulders and looks him straight in the eyes. “I think you should do the dare.”

“Oh.” Logan’s mouth goes slack and he appears lost for words. He gulps, and takes both her hands in his. “Veronica, if you’re saying that out of the spirit of the dare, because you don’t want to back down, or because—"

“I said it because I want you to do the dare. I actually love the idea, and considering what I’ve learned about your rich fantasy life, I’m sure you already have a plan.”

_There. Unequivocal consent._

“Veronica, are you sure you know what this entails? It’s going to take more than just kissing and some light boob groping.” He caresses her breast, as if testing her resolve. “I mean, I could probably get you off with some heavy grinding, but if we’re talking _orgasm of a lifetime_ , I’m going to have to touch you in… _places._ ”

“Places?” Does he think she doesn’t know how sex works? “Do those places have names, Logan?”

He raises his voice. “Your pussy, Veronica. I’m going to have to spread those gorgeous thighs of yours, and go to town on your pussy. To put it indelicately.”

“Wow, what a coincidence. See, that’s exactly how I get myself off, too.” She rolls her eyes and turns toward the bedroom door. “But it’s starting to sound like too much of an ordeal for you, so we’ll just—"

Logan grabs her wrist, pulling her back around and cuts her off with a searing kiss. Veronica lifts up to her tiptoes, and presses her body hard against his.

His tongue teases and swirls in her mouth, while his hands slide up the back of her thighs, pushing her dress up around her waist in the back and squeezing her bottom.

“Does that answer your question?” he asks, pulling back slightly.

“Yeah. I think we’re getting better at communication.”

He kisses over to her ear. “This dress needs to go.”

“That’ll leave me completely naked.”

“Perfect.” He looks up at her from under his lashes. “I want you super aroused and relaxed before I even begin to try…”

“Going to town?”

He snorts. “Yeah.”

“And you want to see my boobs?” she asks.

“God, yes!” He lifts his eyes to the sky in a silent prayer.

Veronica reaches behind her back and, ignoring the racing of her heart, slowly lowers her zipper. The constriction loosens around her chest, and Logan eases it downward, baring her breasts, and releasing a little sigh of appreciation.

The zipper reaches the bottom of its track, and he guides the fabric over her hips and down to the floor.

Naked now, Veronica’s muscles tense up and grow heavy. She momentarily considers flight, but settles on covering her nakedness with her hands.

“Hey,” Logan whispers. “Trust me, okay? I’ll never hurt you.”

Trust. It sounds simple enough. She exhales, and only puts up a token resistance when he gently moves her hands to the back of his neck.

“You are…” He takes a step back, gaze moving down her body. “Perfect. Better than I ever imagined, and, as you’ve learned tonight, I’ve done a LOT of imagining.”

“Maybe you should try some _doing_.” Veronica brazenly beckons him closer.

Logan grins. _Challenge accepted._ He drags her hard against his body, covers her mouth with his and bends her backwards.

She’s dizzy when they straighten up, and getting dizzier by the moment. Logan’s hands slide sensually down her sides, bracing her waist, fingers curling around her back and nearly touching. The texture of his warm skin against her breasts creates pleasurable sensations as she presses harder against his body.

Without breaking the kiss, Logan dips, grabs her by the back of her thighs, and lifts her off her feet. Her legs wrap around his waist, and she clings to his neck as he stumbles three steps to the bed, and throws back the bedding. He lays her down and covers her body with his own.

They kiss like they actually are facing that volcano sacrifice, urgent and breathless. Logan’s right hand palms her breast, and she drags him closer with her thighs. He moves lower, placing light kisses along her jawline and behind her ear, while gently kneading her breast and thumbing her nipple.

Veronica arches back, begging for even more attention, and he obliges by kissing a path down the side of her neck. He finds a sensitive spot at the intersection of her shoulder that makes her moan, and concentrates his attention on that area, shifting his weight onto his left hip, and palming her other breast.

A desperate sound issues from Veronica’s throat. She arches up into his hand, head bent back in invitation. His kisses are open-mouthed and wet. From her throat to her clavicle. His eyes lift to her face, he licks his lips and then wraps them around her right nipple.

Veronica gasps for breath as he sucks on her flesh, creating an answering tingle between her thighs. He pulls back a bit, and uses his tongue, licking against her hard nipple, then around the outside, taking his good sweet time and finding different spots that produce new sensations.

His hand takes-over, gently flicking and pinching while his mouth moves to the other breast.

Her hips pivot upward, even more desperate now, and Logan slides his leg over her thighs, knee pressing to her center just enough to torture her.

Still teasing her breast with fingers and tongue, Logan’s free arm stretches out, drags the gift box closer, and reaches into the recesses.

He returns his attention to her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip, coaxing out her tongue, as he shifts his weight off Veronica and onto his right hip.

She almost doesn’t notice the liquid dripping onto her breast. It’s smooth like silk and no cooler than her own body temperature.

Logan pulls back, admiring his mess, then leans close and blows. It creates a hot, tingling sensation on her nipple, and she gasps. He blows again, and she catches a whiff of pina colada before he licks it off.

Lifting the bottle over her body, he dribbles more of the flavored oil on her skin – from the hollow of her throat to her sternum, and everything in between.

Veronica’s knees lift and her feet plant into the mattress as he licks and mouths at her flesh. He pushes them wider, and moves to kneel between them as he tastes every last drop of the flavored liquid from the underside of her left breast.

Logan sits back on his heels, and drags one hand – fingers spread wide – from her belly button down to her pubic bone.

Veronica’s hips fly up off the mattress, and he takes advantage, scooting closer until his knees are under her thighs. He flits his fingertips over her hipbones, then turns his thumbs inward. They trace a circle around her mound, from the upper edge, to inner thighs, then up over her slit.

Veronica’s breath quickens, and he covers her sex with the flat of his hand, caressing her with gentle strokes. He squeezes two fingers around her, kneading and massaging, and when she’s sure she’s going to die from need, he finally breaches her folds.

Slowly, he traces his way up to her clit and back down to center.

He adds a second finger, gently pinching her clit between the two. He moves his hand up-and-down, feather soft, and so slowly, you’d think he had years to do to this.

The feeling is unbearably fantastic.

He spreads her wider, and buries one finger inside of her, to the knuckle.

Veronica inhales sharply.

“Did that hurt?”

“No. I like it.”

Logan twists his hand, palm up. Slides it out, and back in again in a pumping motion that rubs up against her inner walls, and makes her insides shimmer. She squeezes back against the glorious friction.

He leans forward, mouths at her breast, and circles her clit with his thumb.

“You feel so good,” he whispers.

Veronica pushes up on her elbows, dragging his mouth to hers, and kissing him hard as she grinds her hips up against his hand.

“You like?”

“I’m humping your hand,” she answers between gasps. “Clearly, I like.”

Logan chuckles. He fishes around in the box by feel and pulls out the egg-shaped vibrator. “Trust me?” He hits a button and the egg purrs to life.

She nods. “I trust you.”

Logan’s mouth returns to her breast, and he presses the egg against her clit.

Veronica lets out an embarrassingly loud moan. The device is a steady thrum against her flesh, while Logan kisses away the last of the tropical flavor on her skin. He presses a button on the controller, and it changes to a pulsing vibration. “s’that okay?”

Does he actually expect her to answer when her insides are bending and curling like this? She gasps and nods.

Logan pushes a second finger inside her, stretching her in an extremely pleasurable way. He thumbs the button, and the vibration changes.

It’s starts out barely-perceptible, steadily escalating until it’s almost unbearably powerful, before dropping off and starting over. He pumps his fingers in and out, and the vibrations hum, bringing her right to the verge over-and-over again, until she can’t hold back anymore and falls apart, writhing and gasping.

Several heaving breaths later, she opens her eyes, and a bubble of laughter escapes her. “Wow. That was…”

“Just the beginning.” Logan tugs her to the edge of the mattress, and kneels on the floor. She raises up on her elbows to watch as he licks the slickness from the inside of her thighs.

Lifting her left leg onto his shoulder, he spreads her folds open, and swipes his tongue over the length of her sex.

It’s like nothing she’s ever experienced before, the pressure too gentle, yet too intense, and her chest heaves in time with her ragged breathing.

Logan reaches out his left hand, caressing her breast. With his right, he pushes his long fingers back inside her, while he devours her with his mouth.

Long sensual stripes with the flat of his tongue. Short side-to-side motions with the tip. He alters his speed and intensity, giving her no choice but to undulate her pelvis against his mouth.

Some remnant of her upbringing thinks she should be ashamed for such immodest behavior, but she just can’t bring herself to be. Not with Logan watching her with such naked lust, his face so pretty framed between her thighs.

_A girl could get used to that sight._

He circles her clit with his tongue, then pulls at the flesh with his lips. Veronica cries out and grabs a handful of his hair. His eyes spark, and he repeats that pattern, licking and pulling, licking and pulling, over and over, until every nerve in Veronica’s body winds tight and compact, then erupts with pleasure.

Her muscles go entirely slack, so that all she can feel is her insides, throbbing and pulsing against Logan’s fingers. He pumps them she stills, then pulls out.

She vaguely catalogs Logan kissing up her body, and pulling her into his arms. He pulls the sheets over them, runs his hand over her hair, and kisses her temple.

His chest shakes with suppressed laughter under her cheek.

“What?” she asks, without opening her eyes.

He whisper-sings, under his breath. “They call me Green Christmas. Whatever I touch, starts to melt in my clutch.”

She can’t argue with the statement, so she rolls her eyes. Still, her smile stretches wide despite herself.

“I’m confused,” she says.

“You are?” Logan pushes up into a sitting position, tilting her chin to make her look at him. “Veronica, if you’re worried that I’m going to blow you off after this, or act like this was just part of the game, I won’t. Promise.”

“What?” She raises an eyebrow. “While that’s good to know, I was talking about Lilly. It’s not often where I can’t decide whether somebody deserves revenge or a thank you gift.”

“Oh.” Logan visibly relaxes, takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. “I’d vote for both. It’s probably the best gift I’ve ever received, but the depth of the humiliation was highly unnecessary.”

“Agreed. A little revenge is in store.” She entwines her fingers with his. “You had no idea she was planning this when you showed up? I wondered why you’d be so willing to help out with her party.”

“Maybe I just wanted more time with _you_. Maybe I always do.” He gives an embarrassed shrug. “The disconcerting part is learning how transparent I must have been all these years. She hammered at me about my feelings for you while we were necklace shopping, but I always thought I hid them so well.”

Veronica scowls. “Trust me. You’re very good at hiding your feelings.”

“You’re even better.”

“Thank you,” she says. “Except to Lilly, apparently. I never said a word to her.”

“She acts all bubbly and clueless, but I don’t think much gets past her.” Logan presses a soft kiss to her lips, and then pulls her close again.

Her legs slide against the denim of his jeans. _And why is he still half-dressed?_

“Truth or dare, Logan?”

He snickers. “Dare has treated me pretty well tonight.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She lifts up to look into his eyes. “Logan, I dare you to grab one of those condoms and finish what you’ve started. After that, we can experiment more with the tasty stuff.”

“Veronica…?” Logan’s inhales, his mouth drooping a little. “But…you’re a virgin.”

“Yeah, you’d better get on that.” She thumbs open the button on his jeans, and drags down the zipper.

“But what if Josh Hartnett comes along, and it’s too late?”

“That guy?” She scoffs, as she releases his erection from his pants and underwear. _Wow. Hello!_ “He’s all the way down at number two, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather be rescued from immanent volcano sacrifice by my number one.”

“Rescue, huh? I’d better saddle my steed.” Logan plucks a condom from the box.

* * *

The lights are still on, and an infomercial plays on the television. Lilly carefully closes the front door, and tiptoes into the living room.

Everything is exactly as it she left it. A great sign, to be honest. Veronica would never head off to bed and leave food sitting out, and she’s too money-conscious to leave the lights burning. This has all the signs of an abrupt, unplanned departure.

Lilly sets two boxes of fresh baked donuts on the breakfast bar – Veronica and Logan’s favorite flavors, of course – and spends a few minutes cleaning up. She slides the pizza into the fridge, and covers the snack bowls with plastic wrap. Can’t have the food going bad. With any luck, they’ll be needing several days’ worth of nourishment.

In the living room, she turns off the television. She leaves the remote on coffee table and, after a moment’s hesitation, places Logan’s cell phone and car keys next to it.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she climbs the stairs, pausing near the top to listen for heavy breathing or squeaking bedframes. Nothing.

The fireplace still burns in the master bedroom, and several candles still flicker despite the wax pooling around their wicks.  
The room smells of sex and sugar, and resembles a disaster zone, the floor littered with clothing, notecards and envelopes. The gift box lays on its side, contents spilling out over the area rug, and three empty condom wrappers sit on the bedside table.

_Damn, girl! Way to make him work for his keep!_

Both her friends lay naked at the center of the king-sized bed.

Veronica sprawls halfway across Logan, the sheets pushed down to her waist, exposing her delicate bare back.

Logan’s on his back, one arm curled possessively around her, while the other is bent upward and tucked under his head, one half of a fuzzy handcuff still attached. _DAMN, Veronica!_ The sheet covers one leg and most of his groin – but not that delicious hip bone Lilly used to like tracing with her fingers.

Her mouth goes dry. Damn, he’s magnificent. If she thought she still had a chance…

But she doesn’t, and never will. He quit playing her games a long time ago.

She still loves him – is still _in_ love with him – which, ironically, is what led to her decision. Because love means wishing happiness on the other person, even at a cost to yourself. And to be honest, seeing this hurts _less_ than watching these two dumbasses tiptoe around, miserable, in their stupid, mutual, pining.

She IS genuinely happy for them, no matter how much she would love to strip naked, and squeeze in-between them. Anyway, it’ll make for outstanding masturbatory material later, and Veronica isn’t the only one with a few new toys that go buzz in the night.

Lilly flips off the switch for the fireplace, and blows out two of the remaining three candles. On a whim, she removes her Santa hat, placing it gently on Logan’s head.

_Because what’s hotter than a naked man in a Santa hat, right?_

Logan stirs, and opens his eyes. “Lilly,” he groans. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

“Who me? I think you’re mistaking me for somebody else.” She gestures to herself in exaggerated insult. “How could I be a bitch, when I’m the most generous and thoughtful ex-girlfriend, ever?”

He sighs, glances down at Veronica, his mouth forming into a big, dopey smile. “Love you, Lils.”

“Love you, too, Logan,” she says, and no, she’s not getting choked up, okay? She’s been this hoarse all week. She kisses her fingertips, and touches them to his lips.

Logan gives them a silent smooch, then wraps his other arm around Veronica, gathering her close, like she’s the most precious thing he's ever touched. He kisses her temple, and cups his hand around the back of her head.

_I did the right thing. I did the right thing. They’re blissful._

Lilly repeats it in her head until the ache begins to ease.

She’s taking too long, anyway. Her accomplice is still waiting in the driveway to drive her back to another, fancier, beach house, a few miles down the road.

He’s the kind of guy who can get any woman he wants, so she’s stealing a page from Veronica’s playbook and taking things slow. So far, he’s been the perfect gentleman, thrilled at the prospect of playing Cupid for Logan. _“So, uh…If his heart grows three sizes, you think he’ll become a bit less Grinch-like?”_

Still, his beach house boasts a balcony hot-tub-with-a-view, and she has the perfect bikini to make his jaw drop. If she plays her cards right, she just might get to find out if Connor Larkin’s abs are indeed airbrushed.

She fishes her last notecard out of her handbag, giving it a final read-over.

**L &V,**

 ****

Breakfast is in the kitchen next to a stack of delivery menus. The beach house is yours for the entire weekend! Be ~~good~~ bad, use condoms, and have fun falling (even more) in love. You deserve it.  
Don’t let me down.

 

Love,  
Santa Lilly.

 **P.S. You’re Welcome.  
P.P.S. Did I tell you I invited the perfect guy for you, or did I tell you? Don't forget about me, Veronica.**

Satisfied, she places the card on the nightstand, tent-style. She pauses to take one last bittersweet look at the sleeping couple, then heads to the balcony door, stopping momentarily to blow out the last flickering candle.

**Author's Note:**

> Lilly's Beach house: https://www.vrbo.com/691658 (but closer to Neptune)


End file.
